


A Little Tied Up

by ATLenya



Series: Prompt fics [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cockblocking, Crossdressing Kink, Established Relationship, Handcuffs, M/M, Prompt Fic, Smut, Tony Stark billionaire playboy philantropist nurse, but not really, smutty smut had a smut with a smut, sort of Porn With Plot, ukel and rin made me do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 10:03:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ATLenya/pseuds/ATLenya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint comes back from a mission with some cracked ribs. Tony decides it's time for some TLC.</p>
<p>This is smutty. Like hella.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Tied Up

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Ukelx and Riney. Also I felt like writing smut. They said "IronHawk" and "handcuffs" my mind came up with the rest.
> 
> Warning: Slash  
> Handcuffs in sexual play  
> Crossdressing

Tony pouted at his retreating lover, as the man, bag slung over his shoulder, prepared to leave for his mission.

“If you don’t come back before next monday I won’t give you your presents!” He hollered at the archer’s back.

Clint stopped in his track and looked back at the billionaire with narrowed eyes.

“What do you have in mind?” The SHIELD agent drawled as he paused at the doorstep.

“If I told you now, it wouldn’t be a surprise!” Tony retorted with a toothy smirk and a slight wink.

Hawkeye chuckled lightly, shaking his head as he continued on his way out. Tony watched his archer leave, his eyes trailing down to his backside that he knew Clint took an evil pleasure in showing off in those close-fitting camo pants.

Once the elevator doors closed behind the other man’s back, Iron Man couldn’t help the filthy curse that sprang out of his mouth. Why did he have to run his mouth like that. He did not have the time to go around making something for Clint (because he knew himself and his lover well enough to know that only advanced weaponry and cool toys would be accepted as presents) in the next 4 days. What the fuck was he gonna… oh…. a gleeful grin blossomed on his lips as schematics and calculations sprang into his mind. Yes… that would do…

*~oOo~*

Clint winced subtly as the turbulences around the aircraft roughed up the plane and moved him around brusquely, aggravating his cracked ribs. God, he couldn’t wait to be back at the Tower. The mission had gone smoothly until his SHIELD-issued climbing gear (mostly used to to swing himself off buildings these days…) failed and he plummeted through a glass roof straight into a swimming pool (thank fuck it was actually filled with water, that would have been an awful way to die, smashed against the bottom of a swimming pool in Dubai of all places).

The debriefing was just like he liked it, short and not boring (mostly because he’d given nervous breakdowns to three Supervisory Agents before they let him just file a report later after a cursory oral report that consisted simply of “went there, did the thing, came back” - he wasn’t sure Sitwell would ever get over his phobia of paper airplanes…) and after avoiding check up, he soon sprang free from the SHIELD HQ and onto the first shuttle to New York.

By the time he got to the Tower, the only thing he had in mind was the indecently big and comfortable bed he shared with Tony (because Mister Stark was a freak like that, the bed could hold the whole team even with Dr Banner Hulked out and the thread count on his egyptian linen was offensively high).

He found Tony waiting for him in the atrium, looking wholly unimpressed.

“Natasha called about ten minutes ago, saying something about cracked ribs?” The billionaire smirked amusedly.

“Fuck…” Clint breathed out, knowing that if she’d contacted him, the only way this would play out would be with him on bedrest for three days and not the sexy kind either, Tony could be a freaking mother hen like that, even worse than Cap.

“JARVIS is already alerted, all the windows are sealed until you’re better, just so you know, so don’t even think about it.” Tony continued as the archer reached him and they started walking to the elevator to go back up to the loft.

They walked in companionable silence and Tony even leaned against him in the elevator, but the tiredness won out on his desire to maybe bolt before Iron Man could get worked up over the mission, so Clint barely put up a fight while he was stirred directly to the bedroom. A hamburger and a can of coke waited for him on the bedside table when he walked in. It had become sort of a tradition for them, when one of them got back home after a mission or (for Tony) after a trip abroad, to eat a burger and sleep until duty called again (when they weren’t too busy tearing each other’s clothes off). He barely registered as Tony helped him dress down to his boxers and onto the bed, his eyes closing as soon as his head touched the pillows.

When he woke up again, the all-encompassing windows showed an urban night sky. He listened distractedly to JARVIS’ voice as he announced that it was 10pm and the temperature was mild and oh he’d slept a day away, nice, that didn’t get to happen very often.

A slight throat clearing had him turn his eyes toward the door and his mouth suddenly dried. In the doorway, light at his back and the arc reactor illuminating his features, stood Tony. In a skintight white nurse costume with little white with red cross and plunging neckline that showcased the arc in his chest...

Seeing the definitely well-built man in a tight skirt revealing powerful thighs and curvy hips should not be this damn sexy.

“Mister Barton, your doctors have asked you repeatedly not to strain yourself.” The billionaire moonlighting as a nurse purred smoothly as he fucking _sashayed_ his way over to the side of the bed, while Clint drunk in the sight of his muscles moving under his tan skin.

“I assure you, nurse, I’m totally fine.” He finally answered as the other man reached his side, sending him a shit eating grin.

Iron Man threw him his best unimpressed stare and bent down to force him back into the bed when he made a (admittedly painful) move to sit up.

“Tutut! None of that now, Mister Barton, you’ve been a _very bad_ patient.” The older man grinned down at him, hiking up his already very short skirt, to come sit across Clint’s hips.

“Oh have I?” Hawkeye retorted a bit breathlessly, enjoying the weight of his lover on him as he could feel a certain part of his anatomy rearing up its head, even as he settled his hands on Tony’s hips.

“Very bad.” The other superhero whispered as he leaned down, plastering his body against his lover’s, mindful to alleviate the weight on his ribs by putting his weight on his forearm splayed next to the blond man’s head, as his other hand caressed down the archer’s thick arm to settle on the hand still snug against his own hip. “You might need to be punished. I don’t think you’ll be getting your present, Mister Barton. Although...”

“Although what?” The SHIELD specialist murmured, his lips scant inches from Tony’s as his eyes fluttered close for a second, enjoying the closeness between them.

“I might simply test them on you.” The olive-skinned man on top of him, replied, deliberately louder as he sat back on his haunches, disturbing Clint from his reverie.

“What…” The archer started before getting startled when his arms which had been on the billionaire’s hips, refused to budge from where they were, splayed across the bed, thin bracelets of metal pinning his wrists.

“Magnetic handcuffs with a variable pull. The other parts are under the bed and as long as I don’t push this little button, you are not moving from that bed.” Iron Man grinned wickedly as he waved the small remote (that looked worryingly like a vibrator’s remote) in front of Clint’s nose before throwing it aside with a clatter. “Now, the doctors said no strenuous movements and keep you abed as much as possible. So just sit back and enjoy the show.”

Clint’s mouth dried again as he watched his lover go up on his knees in order to work the zipper of his straining skirt. He had to bit back a moan at the sight of the delicate red lace lingerie bulging against Tony’s aching cock.

“I didn’t think you’d want to have sex while I had broken ribs.” Clint breathed, his eyes never leaving the compact muscles of his lover’s chest as he worked the buttons of his top off.

“They’re only cracked and you’re forbidden from moving around until I’m finished so that should take care of it!” The billionaire retorted brightly as he threw off the top with nary a care, his other hand already caressing the dark blond’s bruised chest lightly, very quickly followed by his lips.

The archer tried to squirm against the handcuffs, to take his lover’s face in his hands and drag him into a bruising kiss, but as most of Tony’s creation, they were deceptively strong. And a twinge of pain in his ribcage reminded him why moving around might be a bad decision. His breathing must have changed because his lover immediately laid off from where he was bent in two, leaving a ghost trail of kisses around his bruises, his goatee scratching against the sensitive skin just enough to send sparks into Clint’s spine, and leaned back to look at his face.

“Awwe, did that hurt a little?” He asked playfully, even as his eyes betrayed his hidden worry and promised that at the first sign of discomfort, he’d stop everything.

“Na, you just take my breath away.” Clint replied, with a deliberately saucy wink, making the brunet chuckle lowly as his worry ebbed away.

“It’s not the only thing I plan to take, tonight.” Tony grinned impishly, while drawing back a little to ground his lace-covered ass over the archer’s already pre-cum wet boxers.

The SHIELD specialist hissed between his teeth, his fists clenching on the sheets as he resisted the urge to snap his hips up and thrust up against his lingerie-clad lover.

“So hasty, Mister Barton.” The brunet chuckled, stretching his arms out languidly, before letting one trail down his own chest down to the tip of his cock which was peeking rather obscenely from the top of his lace panties.

The moan Tony released as his hand trailed along the bulge of his cock was so wanton, Clint considered demanding a raise of his risk bonus to Fury for keeping goddamn still, only throwing his head back to take a steadying breath and not trying to flip them over and take him right there and then, cracked ribs and consequences be damned. His thoughts had apparently distracted him too long for Mister Tony Stark’s taste, because the man’s weight disappeared long enough off him for him to snap back to reality. When he looked back down to the other man, Iron Man was bent forward, his ass sticking up as he slowly brought his chest to lay against the archer’s legs, the cold of the arc reactor feeling extremely pleasant against his feverish skin, as his face came to rest at an angle against his hip, his hot breath torturous against his still clothed member. The olive-skinned man mouthed at his erection lazily, nuzzling it lightly like the big fucking cat he was, before finally licking a wide strip to its underside, boxer and all, getting a loud moan in reward.

“F-fuck, are you trying to kill me slowly or just making me pay for coming back hurt?” Clint couldn’t help himself from asking even as his breath quickened under Tony’s careful ministrations.

“Hm, Both? Yeah both.” Iron Man looked back up at him, smiling toothily, as he finally brought down the archer’s boxers, letting his hardened member spring free of its wet enclosure.

The blond hissed at the sudden cold but the cold was very quickly replaced by the warmth and wetness of his lover’s mouth as the other man simply lost all composure after finally seeing Clint’s cock and just took it straight down his throat in one practiced move. Only a long ingrained habit to compartmentalize everything let him hear the distinct sound of tearing as his fists, still clenching the sheets, ripped those to shred.

“Jesus FUCK. Warn a guy!” Hawkeye complained, half jokingly, as the aborted movement he’d made at the sensation of being enclosed in Iron Man’s mouth, to spring up from the bed caused his rib to ache quite fiercely.

Tony, the archer’s cock still in his mouth, did something with his tongue that should be made criminal, before answering him with a simple long hum that seemed to reverberate through Clint from his erection straight to his core. The blond could feel his climax building inside of him, he was so damn close…

 

 

“Tony did you know your Science Department has a non-mutated strand of Spanish Influenza in its vaults?”

“Hawkeye, Natasha just told me you came back hurt from the mission in Dubai…”

The unexpected voices of both the team berserker and their leader, startled Tony into making a wrong move, half strangling himself on Clint’s member before he pulled his mouth off hastily, coughing and glaring at the two men, who stood in horrified silence in the open doorway.

The archer looked up, in a slight daze, to see Bruce’s wide-eyed stare and Steve’s reddening face (it always started at the neck and the ear, god how cute and innocent could a 165lbs mountain of muscles look?!) as he tried to look anywhere but at the bed and its occupants.

Taking in the red laced panties-wearing billionaire between his lap, unapologetic and glaring daggers at their friends, his own dishevelled if blissed out state, the specialist did the only logical thing to do and started laughing. First half choked chuckles that quickly devolved into full out belly laughter, tender ribs be damned.

The noise he made seemed to break whatever freezing spell had been put on the two standing superheros who immediately turned face and bolted, certainly followed by his hysterical laughter. Tony turned his withered glare to his lover once having made sure JARVIS wouldn’t let anyone else in the bedroom.

“How can you laugh? They totally ruin all my careful planning! I made a powerpoint plan for christ’s sake! I even shaved for this thing! It’s not funny!” The brunet complained, his voice slightly raw from his earlier choking incident.

“Oh it’s not funny… it’s fucking _hilarious_ Tony….” Clint responded with a slight chuckle.

The mood definitely destroyed with vigor, both man looked at each other and started laughing anew. The older man leaning to the side and falling against his archer’s side, giggling madly. They kept laughing for what felt like years if Hawkeye’s aching belly was any indication.

Finally, as the merriment tapered off, the billionaire leaned up to steal a kiss from his lover who bent down in his direction and started chuckling again.

“What is it?” Tony asked, curious at what could have set off his archer this time.

“I’m still handcuffed, Tony…” Clint giggled before laughing out right when his lover looked back at his pinned arms slowly before looking at him with an impish smile.

“... oops?...”

Both men fell into gales of laughter again.

 

-Fin *

~oOo~*

**Author's Note:**

> One day I'll write a full sex scene. But NOT TODAY 8D *runs away*


End file.
